


Chatting Up

by therapychicken



Series: Chatting Up And What Comes After [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bad Sex, Banter, But then again isn't he always, David is a Good Person™, David is good at nicknaming people, Implied Sexual Content, In which Patrick stumbles into David a few years early, Light Angst, M/M, No Smut, Sebastien Raine is the literal worst, Though mostly only after you get through the Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 17:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21377680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therapychicken/pseuds/therapychicken
Summary: A few years before Schitt's Creek, David is in a gay bar and about to chat up a bland-looking guy in blue jeans when who shows up but the literal worst person ever.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Sebastien Raine/David Rose
Series: Chatting Up And What Comes After [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560142
Comments: 22
Kudos: 290





	Chatting Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a bit in a fic I read (unfortunately I can't remember which) in which David and Patrick discuss an awkward experience that Patrick had in a gay bar and David ponders what it would have been like if he were there. I then basically had it go on on its own path.  
Hopefully this little one shot will help me bounce back from my dry spell with my two in progress fics...  
Let me know in the comments what you think!

The bar was noisy, which usually David appreciated- it was a way to get lost in his surroundings, to get outside of his own head for a while. But today the thrumming of the music and the yammering of the fellow patrons was making him itch in his skin, making him jumpy and ready to flee. 

But if he fled alone, he'd be back with only his head and what the therapist before last called his "intrusive thoughts" for company. 

So, he'd have to go find a random to flee along with him, to get lost in for a few hours. 

From his seat at the bar, sipping a tequila sunrise, he surveyed the pickings. Usually, there were others like him- young(ish), alone and maybe lonely, eyes swooping like a hawk's over the range of prey before them. Usually, he and another of them would catch each others' eyes in the search, nod in a gesture of mutual understanding, and make their way toward the door- or, if it was an adventurous night, the single-occupancy restroom. But the night was on the quieter side, and the first few people who David saw were standing in groups socializing, not looking to pull, or at least not this early in the evening. Except-

Except for the man who had just walked in. Probably straight, even though this _was _technically a gay bar- though that had never really stopped David from approaching people like him before, and sauntering away after rejection seemingly unscathed but with that deep red bloom of mortification buried deep within, only second to when the mortification was an outright rejection of _him_, not just his gender. Not tall, but not short either- middle height. Not skinny, but not quite stocky either- more athletic. His hair was short and a medium brown, his skin pale, his clothing shades of boring medium blue in cotton and denim. It all fit him quite well, which was nice, but the man himself was _medium_ in a way that suddenly seemed exactly perfect to David, a respite from racing thoughts and gallery drama and the highs and lows that had been racking him lately. Barring other promising newcomers, he'd start in. 

David took one fortifying sip of his drink as he slid off the stool, watching the man glance around nervously, but also with a hint of evaluation. Obviously new to this kind of place. No wedding ring, so David wouldn't knowingly be aiding and abetting a cheater, not that that's below the depths he'd stoop to. Probably straight, but maybe up for a bit of experimenting. David was great with experimenters- always up to give them a hot first time, willing to fulfill whatever those urges were that had led them here in the first place, and basically nice enough (regardless of what his exes might think) to make it as un-skeevy as possible. Unlike-

Unlike the Captain of Skeeze, Master of the Shitheads, Minister of Fuckitude who was making the same path toward Boring Blue Jeans that David had been about to go, a predatory look in his coked-up eye. 

Sebastien Raine would RUIN this poor guy. 

Aghast, David watched as Sebastien insinuated himself in front of Fifty Shades of Blue, right smack in the personal space, leering down at his alarmed face, saying something soft and obviously suggestive, by the deep red flush spreading across Denim Nightmare's innocent-looking face. His finger came out to stroke Mister Medium's face, silkily, seductively, sleazily.... like he was sure this guy was headed straight for his bed...

No. That wasn't going to happen. 

It only took a few strides of David's long legs to get him over to the two of them, and hear Blue-Frosting-Gingerbread-Man say "yeah, I guess so" in a voice that sounded diffident and nervous, and slide himself carelessly between the two, right up in front of Lord Skeevington himself, not sparing a glance for the man behind him as he said in as tantalizing a voice as he could muster, "come on, you don't want an amateur like that. You want someone who knows what he's doing." 

Sebastien's eyebrows rose. "Well," he drawled. "David Rose. Unexpected. And definitely not an amateur."

"Certainly not," David replied in kind, over a growing feeling like he was about to retch. "You see him- he looks so bland, so nervous, so inexperienced. You think you want to fuck him up, but you know you actually want someone who knows what he's doing, knows how to make you feel _really _good, not just someone who you can play with and hope he'll catch on. You want me." 

Sebastien gave him an appraising look, and it took all of David's inner strength to look him in the eye right back, and not to look at the man behind him, see what his reaction was to this whole charade. "You know what," Sebastien said after a beat too long, "I think you're right," and David's sigh of relief was hastily camouflaged as a pseudo-sexy affirmation as he slung an arm over Sebastien possessively, turning him away from Men's Wearhouse Mascot as subtly as he could. Sebastien seemed to have totally forgotten about him when he said, "well, I know I can fuck you up, so why don't you show me just how much of a slut you are in the bathroom." 

Well, so much for an escape. David felt himself be led over to the other side of the room, where the single occupancy restroom door was open wide in invitation, and allowed himself only the briefest glance behind him at Blue Is The Dullest Color, who was staring at them with his face shocked and frozen. He quickly turned back toward Sebastien, and nibbled a bit on his ear in the way that he remembered got him going, and sure enough Sebastien was walking him just a bit faster. David wanted this over as soon as possible, and the best way to do that was to be as wanton and slutty as possible- luckily, two of his more prominent skills. He only spared a quick thought for the frozen man behind them as the lock clicked shut. He had work to do. 

***

David hadn't expected the Blue-Shirted Wonder to still be there when he got back to the bar, twenty minutes later, (let nobody tell David he wasn't good at what he did), Sebastien having wandered his way toward the exit, having gotten what he'd come for. David had expected him to have long gone, escaped back to the real world where people like Sebastien didn't have their sharpened claws out for him, but no, he was sitting at the bar, draining the last dregs of beer from a bottle, his eyes looking around but not like he was on the prowl- like he was looking for someone. And when the eyes saw David, they sharpened and widened and their owner jumped up from his stool and walked quickly and fiercely over to David like his shoes were on fire. 

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" he hissed furiously. His pointed finger jabbed David in the middle of his ribcage. The man wasn't medium anymore- he was incandescent. 

It made David gulp, but quickly recover himself. "Look," he said, a bit angry himself, he had to admit, "I didn't mean to insult your sexual prowess or manhood or anything like that, but that guy was _bad news_. Trust me, you didn't _want _to sleep with him. He would have chewed you up and spat you out, he would have used you and no offense, but I can tell that you're new at this and it would not have gone well for you. I did you a favor."

The man- David's mind was spinning too hard from his anger and the funny feeling in his skin where a pointed finger had contact with his chest to be able to come up with a clever nickname- the man was staring at him, hard. Suddenly, the fight seemed to mostly go out of him, and he withdrew his hand- David felt a pang when they lost contact, and what the fuck was that about?- and folded his arms in front of him. "I know that," the man said. 

"Okay...?" So then what was going on...?

"I know he's slimy, I know he's gross, I realized that- but, I mean, at first I thought you just wanted him- Suh- Seb-"

"Sebastien."

"Yeah, him. I thought maybe it had nothing to do with me, that you just wanted him, but then you looked back at me and your expression- you did that to get him away from me. You knew he was bad news and you did that for me. Why did you do that?" The man's arms were still folded in front of him, his eyes still struck him like daggers, but there was a soft perplexity there too. 

David considered it for a second, considered him, this soft man with a hard stare and a no-iron shirt. "I know you know he's slimy and gross, but if I hadn't stepped in, is there even a .5% chance that you would have gone with him to that bathroom? Half a percent."

The man's mouth- a soft-looking mouth- twisted a bit, as though he was trying to hold back the inevitable. "As much as I hate to admit it to myself," he said slowly, "yes, there is at least a half a percent of a chance that I would have gone with him."

"Well then it was worth it," David said, simply, because it was. 

The man's soft mouth opened and closed, as though he was unsure what to say, and then just smiled, also softly, looked into David's eyes and said "thank you."

And David could do nothing but stare back and say, "you're welcome, I guess," as the man smiled (at him!). 

After what felt like an eternity but probably was four and a half seconds, the man blinked, cleared his throat, and said , "I'm getting another drink. Are you having another drink?"

"Well, yeah, I guess so. I was having a tequila sunrise before, but I left it on the bar and who knows what happened to it. It's a good idea, though, it'll get the taste out of my m-" And fuck, that was too much. David could feel a deep hot flush crawling across his face, and determinedly didn't look next to him toward the man, just walking toward the bar and, when he reached it, figuring that the man had probably walked away, disgusted, but instead he heard the man's voice ask for a Stella (ugh) and a tequila sunrise; it seemed finally safe to look at him, to offer him a ten to pay for the drink. 

The man looked surprised. "No, it's on me- gotta thank you for what you did." He smiled a bit, and sat down at a barstool, and gestured for David to take the one next to him; David sat, mystified, shoving the ten in the tip jar instead. He hadn't just sat and had a drink with a guy in how long? A while, really. Usually it was like today, a drink alone while he looked for a random, or maybe a wild party and a bunch of slammed back shots along with a nice mind-obliterating cocktail of enjoyable pharmaceuticals. Not a drink that was him and one other person who wanted to sit with him, to pay for his drink. 

The tequila sunrise was placed in front of David, and he took a sip, wondering what one did in this situation, with a man sitting next to him who had paid for his drink. What was he expecting him to do? He cautiously looked up and the man was looking at him, a little diffident but smiling. He smiled back, hesitantly, not sure what was required of him in this scenario, what would keep the man smiling at him, not rejecting him as a slut. 

The man opened his mouth slowly, as though not sure whether to speak, and as though taking some kind of a plunge he said quickly, "why did you do it? I mean," he continued, seeing David's expression, "not why did you help me, why did you help me by seducing him? Why not just, like, warn me off or yell at him or something? Not to criticize the manner in which you went out of your way to selflessly help me, or anything, but just figured you'd find it a bit easier." The man half laughed as though to turn the question into a joke, and to perhaps belie his nervousness, that seemed to be creeping into his no-longer-steely eyes, that he'd had the nerve to ask a question like that of David. 

Why had David done it? He thought about it for a few seconds, his mind racing. How to explain this in a way that- "Well," David said mock-professorially, a finger pointing in the air, as though it was a big joke (and the man snickered a bit, thank fuck), "there are two reasons. The first is that Sebastien is an evil fuckface, and the more that someone tries to reject him or convince him against something, the more he'll be oppositional and sneaky and conniving to convince them to do it anyway. So it wouldn't have worked. He would have sunk his filthy talons into you even deeper." 

The man nodded attentively. "That makes sense. And the second reason?"

"The second reason..." David sighed, and took another sip of his drink, and rubbed his eyes, and said finally, "the second reason is that it didn't occur to me to do anything differently. It didn't even _occur to me _to just talk to him. It's just- it's just how it is. I'm- a bit of a slut, I guess, so-"

"Okay, I got it." David looked up suddenly at the sharp tone in the man's voice, _oh shit, he's finally realized what I am, this is over, whatever this is, _and while the steel was back in the man's eyes, the rest of his face was- how many times could David use the word soft to describe something about this man? But it was the only word that seemed to fit. He looked almost _gently _ at David. "Sebastien," he said as though realizing something, "Sebastien did that to you too, didn't he?"

"Did what?" What did the man think he'd realized?

"Chewed you up and spat you out," said the man, with a touch of bitterness that David realized with a jolt was on his behalf. 

David laughed laconically. "Nah, by the time I met Sebastien I was already well masticated." 

There was a beat of silence as the man gave him that soft but steely look again, took a swig of his beer and said, "I'm sorry to hear that."

David was flustered- what did he say to that? "Um, thanks, I guess? It's fine, though." He supposed it was fine- it's not like things could have been different.

After another gulp of beer- his throat moving intriguingly as he swallowed- the man said, "well, Sebastien was exactly how you say. The first words out of his mouth were 'I can make you feel so good, and your girlfriend will never know.'" He cringed. "I was so thrown off-balanced. I don't even have a girlfriend, and I still felt so... gross and sleazy." 

And yes, it was just like Sebastien to start off that way- David winced. "Well," he responded, "Sebastien does have a way of making you feel like the worst possible version of yourself." 

"Yes!" The man nodded fiercely. "That's exactly what it felt like. I mean, I came in here because I thought it would be good, I thought it would help me figure out if I'm actually- you know-" He suddenly seemed flustered, and it was kind of cute. 

"Gay?" David filled in the blanks with a bit of a teasing lilt and a grin, and the man wrinkled his nose at him. Also cute- god. 

"Shut up, but yeah, and I figured I'd just get a beer, see what I felt in a place like this- I didn't expect to be chatted up like that, made to feel like I was doing something wrong and dirty." 

Well, about that- "You know," David said slowly, reluctantly, "when it comes down to it, I might not be that much of a better person than Sebastien after all. I noticed you seemed... new... and I was going to chat you up as well." 

He'd expected some kind of surprise, some remonstration, but instead all the man did was- blush a bit, turn pink? Really? And the pink was an interesting contrast with the pale blue of that shirt and the brown of his hair and- now that they were sitting close to each other- the brown of his eyes, and oh no, David was actually starting to be attracted to this man, with his department store clothes (that fit him very very well, and had sleeves that rolled up to reveal fantastic arms) and his empathy and his fucking softness. The man in turn seemed flustered again. "You wanted to chat me up?" he said almost incredulously, staring at David up and down. 

"Well, yes...?" And the man was definitely blushing now, and staring at David as though absorbing how he looked, as though he found David attractive in turn, and it was more than flattering but it was distracting from the main point, which was that- "so I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been thinking in those terms, you were new, and-"

"You chatting me up wouldn't have been anything like Sebastien. You wouldn't have said those things, you wouldn't have made me feel that way." The man's voice wavered a bit, but otherwise was steady, as he turned to look at David in the eyes again, and it felt like his gaze was burning. "Anyone who would do something for me like you did, for the reasons you did it for, wouldn't have been anything like Sebastien. I would-" and here the man faltered, before continuing resolutely, now with his eyes to the floor, like he was hiding, "I would have been really happy if you'd come and chatted me up." 

Something warm- not hot, like his shame and embarrassment, but warm like a gulp of hot chocolate on a chilly day- was rising in David's chest, making him smile with a silly grin that he had to bite back in order to hide, in case the man decided to take his steely gaze off the linoleum. The man would have wanted David to chat him up. He didn't think David was a slut, or would have made him feel like one. He thought David was attractive, and also a good person, maybe. 

It was all a little too much, and the tequila was going a bit to David's head, and he smiled and said slightly hazily, "well, it's a shame that we now know each other, so I've missed my shot to do that, haven't I?" 

A bright, happy laugh came from the stool next to him, and David looked up to see the man beaming like the sun, and it was almost blinding how much it shone, how much David was basking in that glow. "Know me? I don't think so, David. You don't even know my name." 

"Very true," said David, as he drained his glass. Of course, Sebastien had said David's name, but the man had never said his. The man swiveled in his stool and took something out of his pocket, hunching over the bar like he was writing. David craned his neck to look and see, but before he could get a glimpse, the man had finished. He stood up from his stool and walked over next to David, so that David could almost feel his warmth, and suddenly David's face was warm too. 

"Well," the man said as his hand slid tantalizingly close to David's hand, and a small card was pressed into his fingers, "we'll have to bump into each other again so that you can chat me up and find out my name." He winked- actually winked- and strode off, with a little smile that made him look pleased with himself, and David couldn't even be bothered to bite back the grin that was suddenly suffusing his face. 

He picked up the card so that he could see in the dim bar light what was written on it, and laughed aloud- it was a business card, from the local chamber of commerce, and the man had crossed out his name, leaving only the letter P- apparently his first initial. His cell phone number was circled. Probably David could read the name backward if he flipped over the card, but that would take all the fun out of it. He hadn't expected to have fun tonight, but then again, he also hadn't settled for medium. 


End file.
